


Ruffling Patches of Hair

by adarnellis



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Cancer, F/M, Gen, dan avidan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 12:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2110308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adarnellis/pseuds/adarnellis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes hope is a learned trait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello friends my goal here today and for the rest of this adventure is to make you cry leggo

If you were to hear three simple words, your life would change forever. For the better, or for the worse. The three words that were presented to you were three words no one wanted to hear.

 

_“You have cancer.”_

 

When you hear those words, you go deaf. Your stomach turns to ashes and floats to the ground. The throat that had only been hurting was now the very thing killing you. You realize that you are living with a murderer who cannot be arrested. A murderer, that you hadn’t known, had been strangling you for months.

When faced with this faceless murderer, you are put into a Witness Protection Service  sort. But those that identify this killer call it a research society. They feed you, clothe you, home you, until the massacre of yourself is stopped. In your time of the research society, You have found multiple friends, but not as a clique. You have found multiple friends covered in vomit, in blood, in death. You begin to realize, maybe the killer inside of them wasn’t what was killing them. You realize it’s the victims’ fault. Sheets, pills, glass. All of these do more damage than a DNA strand.

You had been one of the lucky ones, one of those that had survived your own being. You had survived my own holocaust. In surviving your holocaust, you realized something. Sometimes the cancerous things in life are the things that cannot give you cancer. Your cancer was not caused by a birth defect, was not caused by a pack full of metaphors. Your cancer was caused by the pure impurity that had been your existence. And you knew that.

You know that.

But he hadn’t.

The ‘he’ refers to the one friend you had made that hadn't died from his own nuclear destruction. His name was Danny, and he stood at 6 foot 3 inches, had a black Jew fro the size of Manhattan (well, when he hadn't lost it all), and brown eyes. Though he knew that he had such a large chance of fading like everyone else, he still found a way to make everyone smile. To make you smile, and you can never repay him for what he gave you.

Hope.

It was such a new word. It was something that he had introduced to you, and it was his parting gift to you when he had left.

~

“Listen, (Y/LN),” he began, knowing he had only been two years older than yourself, “there’s a lot of bad things about this world, and you know that. But I want you to know now that you are not one of those things. You are not a generic brand of playdoh some dick kid mixed with other colors and proceeded to capture into a million circles. You have edges, and you will always have that. Don’t lose that.” You nodded, and only replied, “Stop being such a square.” He smiled, offering a little chuckle to your response.

He grabbed his bags, and he turned his back to you, “I’ll miss you, (Y/N).” He had only glanced at you with him saying this, as his footsteps drew farther, and you finally remembered the something in your pocket. “Wait!” You called out for him; he responded by turning towards you yet again. You rushed towards him, picking a twine bracelet. “I’m sorry I’m shit at crafts, but I guess this is sort of a friendship bracelet type of thing.” He took the bracelet from your hand and proceeded to wrap it around his wrist.

You both stood there stood there, a 14 year old cancer kid, and a 16 year old asshole. Neither of you spoke for 30 seconds, which prompted the secretary to start scolding him about how he couldn’t stay. He waved her off, telling her how he’d only be a minute more. She glared at him, taking her place back behind the front desk.

“I’ll miss you, Avidan. With your gigantic head,” You joked, patting his hat covered head. “Don’t forget my _dazzling_ personality,” Dan responded, puffing his chest out, and rubbing where his heart had been. You laughed, he smiled. He took your hairless head into the palm of his hand and he had kissed your forehead. When he pulled back he whispered to you, “You’re going to find me again some day, kid.” “Is that a promise?” You responded, the false smile falling off your lips. He nodded, ruffling your patches of hair.

“It’s time to leave!” the receptionist called to him once again. He only groaned, telling her he was coming. He looked back to you, “I guess this is goodbye for now.” You feel your lips point down, “I guess so.” He grabbed his bags again, this time actually heading outside. You felt your stomach beginning to feel heavy, you felt your knees go weak. You wanted him back. Though you felt awful for it, for wanting him to still have cancer, you didn't care. And though both of your hearts had been beating, You were still comatose watching him leave.

Your best friend was gone. And you were dead to him. And you were dead to you.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

In three years, your hair had grown from nubs to a whole foot. Twelve inches. Your hair was longer than what your life had been.

Though you had been off of chemo for more than a year, they still felt the need to keep you locked up, because they had to make sure you weren't still a suicide risk and that you had been 100% physically stable; no matter how much you tried to convince them otherwise.

In three years, you had forgotten what human touch--other than your own--had felt like. In three years, You had forgotten Danny's voice. In three years, the cancer had given up on your vessel. In three years, so had you.

If someone were to ask at the age of 80 if you remembered everything about getting out that day, you could tell your exact footsteps, the exact time, the exact date, the exact faces, and the exact voice that had greeted you at the door.

Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, STOP, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, turn right, STOP, left, right, left, right, heels screeching, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left turn, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, slight trip, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, continue straight, left, right, left, right, left, right, the desperate clinging to life of a five year old, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, parents sobbing, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, parents not there, left, right, left, right, left, right, stop. Realize.

The laughing and the clocks that had kept you up throughout the nights were now suddenly drowned out. The screeching of your heels, stopped. Doctors trying to let a five year old boy live, stopped. The parents crying, stopped. The sound of your parents not being here, stopped. There was only him.

You saw him look up from the papers the once spiteful secretary had given him the same day he had walked out of the same doors you would be free of in less than ten minutes. It seemed everything had muted itself as you heard Dan finish signing your release papers, and had placed the pen down. He looked down towards his feet and you stood completely still, as if the only thing moving had been the blood flowing through your body.

He pushed his shirt down and readjusted his flannel; you see him let out a deep breath.

Then you watched as he slowly look up to meet your gaze, and his relaxed expressions changed into realization.

His eyes widened, and his lips dried as he removed them from each other. He unknowingly balled up his hands, forming fists--what he does when he cannot fathom words to express the moment.

As if on cue, he and you launched towards each other, embracing as your inertia knocked the other back slightly. He stroked your hair, and you tried your very hardest to brush your fingers through his tangled mane. He nuzzled his nose into the crown of your head, breathing like he was trying not to collapse at this very moment. You felt something brush against your ear as he wrapped his arms further around your head.

There were no words, just standing there. You were no longer a 14 year old cancer kid and a 16 year old asshole. No.

You were nothing but a couple of a 17 year old mistake and a 19 year old masterpiece; and somehow, he had made it feel like you were finally home.

~

He drove miles in the same busted up truck that he had left you in. You were going nowhere in particular, and you had nothing else to do but blast music and roll down your windows. You pushed my head out into the breeze, feeling as your (H/C) strands blew against the wind. The Smiths were playing as the sun went down, and The Smiths were playing when you stopped far away from the city you once knew.

 

Both removed yourselves from the truck, and he laid a blanket inside the bed of the piece of trash. When it was all set up, he hopped in, positioning himself comfortably. When he was done he motioned to you--pointing towards your face, he motioned his right hand index finger in a hook like manner. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You went to the bed of the truck and hopped in, placing yourself near him. You both sat in silence.

As the once pale blue sky faded from the iconic color to sherbet, you glanced to his mess of hair, staring at him intently. He was smiling. Something you had previously seen him do so many times inside of the cancer ward. He was always smiling. And he had been beautiful, in that moment. No. He had always been beautiful. You had just never seen past the tumor that laid inside his heart.

His eyes darted from the setting sun towards you. You got caught off guard as you moved your head quickly away from his gaze. "We shouldn't be here," You told him softly, barely enough for him to hear. He scooted closer to your noncancerous body, "When have you ever been one to follow the rules?" he laughed at his moronic response as he rested his shoulder on the back of the rear window.

"No," you begin, looking towards him now, you continued, "We shouldn't be here. We shouldn't be sitting here. We shouldn't be alive." You felt as his arm go up to your shoulders, the knotted twine bracelet you made him had been bouncing on your collarbone. "We shouldn't be here, but we are. Shouldn't that be something to rejoice in?" You looked away somberly, shaking your head, "Not when I was dying less than 3 hours ago."

 

The dashboard was the only thing lighting his face as you both drove back into town. He tapped the steering wheel to the beat that danced on the inside of his head. You heard as the blinkers of the car began tapping, signaling right; and that was when you saw the lights of the city. You looked out in awe, the only light you had come to be accustomed to was that of the hall lights they left on for the little ones.

You pressed my face to the glass window, as if you couldn’t get any closer. Dan looked toward you, laughing as you looked at him with excitement, then annoyance. “What’s so funny?” you questioned as you looked around the streets only known to him.

“You’re so cute, kid.”


	3. Chapter 3

You arrived to Dan’s apartment a quarter until 1. He fumbled with the keys, as he had been 100% tired. You honestly hadn’t seen him so tired since the last time he had done chemo. He had finally successfully unlocked the door, and he came storming in, throwing his shoes off and removing his shirt. His apartment hadn’t been large, it was a loft.

The second you walked into the door, a small kitchen was on your left, and the living room on your right. If you walked to your right, you would see Dan’s bedroom to the next right. The only thing separating the two spaces was a shelf full of records and books, and a palm tree. His living room had not been painted, there were just paint swatches hanging from the walls. In his bedroom, the mattress was on the floor, and there was a single dinged window looking out onto the city streets.

“Danny, oh my God, I love your place,” you mentioned, looking around. He sat on the couch to untie his ridiculous shoes, “Thanks, I hope you don’t mind staying in the sexatorium here for as long as you want.” You shook your head as you simply responded, “No.” You went into his kitchen and pulled the jug of koolaid from the fridge. The linoleum tiles sticking to your flats with every step. You walked back into the living room, a plastic cup full of red koolaid.

As you sat down, Dan stood straight up, walking into his bedroom. He came back with a flannel of his, a pillow and a blanket. He handed you the almost undersized long sleeves, and propped the pillow on the edge of the couch. You put your head on it, looking up at him. He had given you this look as though he wanted you to move. “This is where I’m sleeping, right?” He shook his head, pointing to the bed, “You’re sleeping on an actual bed.” You smiled, as you stood up and hugged him. “Thanks, babe.” He hugged me back, “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

You walked into the room, where there had been an almost engraved body mark on the bed. You laughed, “What’s with this imprint asshole? Is it all of the girls you have sex with over here?” I heard as he laid on the couch and wrapped the blanket around his body. “It’s probably just Suzy and Arin's.” I felt my stomach drop. Oh God, had he seriously brought girls and fucked them right here? “Who’s that?”

He turned, peeking his head over the ledge to look at you, “Just these two people I know. Don’t tell me...are you jealous?” You scoffed, “As if.” “Well, you know that they’re really pretty, I’d date them if I could,” he flopped back down on the pillow he fluffed for himself. You clenched your fists together. “Yeah? Well, I’ll have you know I know a guy or two myself?” His head looked back towards me, and he stood up. He walked toward me in nothing but his boxers. “Oh really? Who are these guys?”

You changed into his flannel as you began to bullshit the biggest pile of lies you’ve ever stated, “I mean, you can’t expect that within three years time there’d be no new patients would you?” He inched closer to you, him getting protective, “Why don’t you explain what this guy looks like?” You began to think of all of the hot dads you had seen in the meeting rooms.

“He’s...uh...he’s about 6’6. He had blue hair and grey eyes. He was just, just really hot.” Dan was so close, your nose could almost touch his neck, “What have you and this guy done?” Without any hesitation, you simply say, “He ate me out.”

By the time you had realized what you said, Dan was angry. He had pushed you onto the bed and he just stated, “I may not go down on you, but I will cuddle you SO hard!”

It was 2:30 when he wrapped his arms around you.

~

You were awoken to the feeling of him leaving your side. You tried your very hardest to stay awake as you heard a female voice outside of the door. Dan opened the door to reveal two familiar faces to him, as they seemed to just walk in and throw their bags on the couch. I sat up from where I had been lying down.

You lean off the side of his bed, and pull yourself up to the point of standing. You quickly grabbed your pants and put them on. You began stepping around the bed, of course, though you had not wanted them to know you happened to be there, the floorboards underneath your feet creaked. Immediately, a brunette guy looked directly at me. Your face had drained of color as he began laughing. Your cheeks heated up as his laughs echoed more and more. The girl looked directly at you next, scowling towards the laughing man. Dan peeked around the corner, as he saw you to the point of tears.

Finally when the unfamiliar face had calmed down, wiping the tears from his eyes, he asked Dan who you had been (of course he had not forgotten the joke of you being his 'newest D-Club member' (whatever that meant)). Dan sighed, explaining to him that you had been the girl he had once spoke so highly of. That you were the girl he looked forward to seeing every day.

The girl had looked my way, “I’m Suzy, this mistake here is Arin.” Arin shot her a look, as if telling her to shove it. Suzy just furrowed her nose, and stuck her tongue out at the other guy.

There were then sounds of scraping metals against the wooden door of Dan’s loft. A rather short man (compared to the rest of the group, that is) opened the door to reveal one other guy, with blue eyes and caramel brown hair. They threw down, what appeared to be, extremely heavy boxes. “Don’t throw shit!” Arin scolded. “Well maybe if you didn’t leave us to get all of your shit we wouldn’t have this problem!” The blue eyes argued back. “Shut the fuck up Ross, just set everything up,” Arin had waved him off dismissively.

This ‘Ross’ had proceeded to push the box of death towards the television. “What’s even fucking in here?” Dan questioned, helping the other man with his box. Before Arin could open the box, Suzy stopped him, “Could I open it?” Arin smiled, standing up to give Suzy a pair of safety scissors. When given the chance, Suzy quickly opened it, revealing a gaming system, and microphones. “What the fuck?” Suzy questioned under her breath.

Dan motioned toward the box full of equipment, “What is all this?” The brunette smiled, “I thought we could all have a nice grump get together and play a nice, relaxing game of Mario Kart 8.” “ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT,” Dan protested, “YOU ALWAYS BEAT OUR ASSES, AND I GUARAN-FUCKING-TEE YOU’RE DOING THIS BECAUSE YOU ARE SO FAR BEHIND ON YOUR CHANNEL.” He only shrugged, not denying the accusations. “Nice family game my ass,” Ross commented.

The girl began setting everything up, testing to see if the recording had been picking everything up and such. Arin began handing out controllers to everyone. When he finally came to you, you put your hand up, you had never really been able to play video games in the ward. His spontaneous, yet theatrical, demeanor diminished into a cocky, and devious host. “Welcome to a nice, gigantic episode of Steam Rolled,” he began pointing down the line at every person.

“I'm Suzy.” “Danny Sexbang,” Dan said deep into the microphone. "Ross." “And I'm Barry.” Barry, that was his name. “Well, today, me and my darling friends here are going to be playing a game close to my heart, Mario Kart 8! Who else is excited?” The room remained silent, causing you to slightly laugh. Dan made sure to over exaggerate a cough, enough for the mic to pick up.

“Great! Now who’s ready to get their ASSES HANDED TO THEM!” Arin had been way too over confident.

 

For the next 20 minutes, you watched as people became triumphant, but had their dreams crushed under his unforgiving hand. Even when he had appeared to get hit with blue shell after red shell after green shell, he still prevailed in first place. It amazed you.

But there was one game, that took the crown away from Arin. The person who had beat the all reigning king had been Barry. He spit curses at the other man, so angry he had been in second place, it was truly a sight to see. Though you had not commented throughout the entirety of their recording session, you picked up a controller and joined the game when they had been on the main menu. Dan smiled as I picked a character, Toad. He leaned directly into the microphone and whispered, “A new challenger appears.” You giggled at his stupid ass comment, you had been no challenger. Just someone looking to be a part of the group.

“Since you are our guest, pick the map,” Arin handed you the winning controller. There was a genuinely nice looking map, it had been colorful and was in the middle of space. The second you pressed the select button, you handed a now fuming Arin the controller. After peering at the others, you realized everyone had been holding a scowl or look of disgust towards you. “What?”

“Oh my god,” Ross breathed into the mic, “She’s that friend that picks Rainbow Road.” “What’s so bad about Rainbow Road?” you questioned, it looked fun. “Nobody fucking tell this traitor,” Dan demanded. They were throwing you out of the group like a sick animal; for what? A pretty ass map?

 

Not even thirty seconds in, you had regretted your decision. There were turns sharper than Suzy’s eyeliner; hills steeper than city streets. There was a point where Suzy (before she even completed the first lap) just stopped in the middle of the track. This had caused you to laugh, thus resulting in you plummeting off of the map. “ARE YOU FUCKING HAPPY NOW (Y/N),” Dan screamed at you as he was hit by a bullet bill and falling off the world, lending him into 8th place.

But Arin remained silent, uttering curse words whenever he was hit with a blue shell, but somehow remaining in 1st place. Barry was close behind, screaming things such as, “Here comes-a Yosh!”

 

After another continuous hour of nothing but all of you screaming and getting pissed off at one another, everyone had announced how hungry they had been. Arin turned off the capture and everyone had begun standing up, while you stayed sitting down. Everyone had almost been out the door when Dan called back, “Yo, you comin’?” You shook your head slightly, looking towards your feet. He walked over towards you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “What’s up?” You ran your hands through your hair, “They’re not gonna like me,” you began, “No one likes me.”

He grasped you tighter, without realizing it, “What are you talking about? I like you.” You looked down to the floor, “You like me because you grew up with me.” He shook his head in disagreement, "I like you because you're a cool ass person." You laughed, trying to hide the tears that began lining your eyelashes. "Can I tell you something?" you looked from your hands to him. As he rubbed your shoulder, he responded, "Of course." You wipe your eyes with the palm of your hand, "I thought Arin was a girl that you slept with." It took a moment for him to process your confession, but once it had he was doubled over, laughing like an idiot. Through his gasps of air and cries, he managed to cough out, "Just because I saw his dick once doesn't mean anything." He began laughing again, and you laughed too.

When both of your gasps for air stopped, he patted your thigh, "They'll like you, okay?" I smiled and nodded, as he gave me his hand and pulled me up.


End file.
